


Thinking Of You

by RighteousMaximus



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24912235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RighteousMaximus/pseuds/RighteousMaximus
Summary: Finn tries his best to be a father, or a father figure.
Relationships: Finn/Raquesis | Lachesis
Comments: 13
Kudos: 32





	Thinking Of You

**Author's Note:**

> AKA Finn has depression and relies too much on his therapy brave lance

Finn watches silently as Diarmuid trains diligently. "Fine form."

"Ah! Sir Finn! My apologies, I didn't notice you," Diarmuid sheathes his blade and turns with a bow. "Did you need something?"

"I..." Finn stops, cautious. "You can call me 'father', if you want."

"Hmph," Diarmuid's mouth sours, and Finn sees his mother. "Why? After all, I hardly know you."

"True," Finn leans on his lance, heavily. What can he do, Prince Quan? "I never knew you existed until Lachesis came to Leonster."

"And then she disappeared when trying to return, I know," Diarmuid bites. "And for you to return, now?"

"I am sorry. But I see you've taken up the sword."

"Didn't have a choice," Diarmuid spins and draws his sword once more, hacking quickly on the training dummy, straw flying left and right. "I had Sir Oifey and Prince Shannan to teach me. And while Sir Oifey knows how to use a lance, he's more suited to the sword. Plus, the Hezul blood."

"I see."

"What...what was it like? Back in the day?" Diarmuid stops mid-swing as Finn's eyes widen. "The way Sir Oifey tells it, you, he, and Prince Shannan were the kids."

"We were. We were just children," Finn nods and pushes himself off his lance. "Dew was as well, but he and I were full combatants. Oifey and Prince Shannan stayed on the sidelines."

"Hmph."

"It was war, Diarmuid. One us children shouldn't have fought, and a war you shouldn't be fighting now."

"Come off it, father," Diarmuid lets out a shout and bisects the dummy. "You've heard Prince Seliph's speeches. You've heard his rallying cries. If not us, then who?"

Finn doesn't know if Diarmuid noticed he called him 'father'. "I know. Leave the dummy alone. Fight me."

"Really? Not scared I'll show you up?" Diarmuid kicks the halved training dummy to the sandy floor and turns. Finn readies his lance. 

"I'm hoping you do," Finn smiles tightly. Without a sound, Diarmuid grins and charges, but he just holds his lance out fully and his son almost runs straight into it. "Sloppy." Diarmuid snarls, just like mother did, and bats his lance away. 

"Again," Diarmuid settles into a stance, weight on the balls of his feet. Finn smiles. "Control your anger, Diarmuid. Within you runs the blood of the Crusader Hezul, renowned for his strength. If your mother could beat me, so can you."

Diarmuid takes a deep breath and settles himself. He charges, again and again. Eventually he sends Finn to the floor, breath leaving his lungs. "How's that?" Diarmuid breathes heavily, a toothy grin on his lips. 

"Once you can do that while we're both on horseback, maybe you'll impress me," Finn closes his eyes and hears Diarmuid grunt. He used that line so long ago on Lachesis to goad her into doing more and more. "But well done, my son."

* * *

"Father, are you alright? You took a nasty wound that last battle."

Finn looks up to see Nanna with her lip worried between her teeth, Mend staff at the ready. He looks down to his arm, slowly gushing blood. "Ah, I see. I hardly noticed it."

"Always leaving me to patch up your wounds, Father," Nanna rolls her eyes and activates the staff, his flesh mending quickly. "There you go. When did you get so careless?"

"A long story, Nanna," Finn pats her head and she whines a bit. A shame she didn't inherit his height. "It's been a long time since I felt many things."

"I'm guessing since Mother left?" Nanna raises a fine golden eyebrow, and Finn feels tossed back more than twenty years ago. 

"Before then," Finn sighs, and tightens his grip on his lance. "When..." he swallows thickly. Even after all this time, he can't say it.

"You don't have to explain, Father," Nanna smiles. "But I wish you'd take care better care of yourself."

How do you tell your daughter you don't care?

"Thank you, Nanna," Finn nods. "I - hm."

"Yes?" Nanna turns to go, a small smile on her face.

"I was about to say how much you're turning into your mother. But...you are quickly becoming your own person. I am very proud of you."

One of Nanna's hands goes to the Earth Sword and her face tightens. "Father..."

"I'm sure you have more important things to worry about than an old man like me," Finn ruffles his hair. 

"You're my father, of course I have to worry about you," Nanna chuckles.

"It should be the other way around, should it not?" Finn leans on his lance, battle-worn just like he is. 

* * *

"Lord Leif, you should be resting," Finn enters the small study where his charge is hard at work on report after report. Even in the middle of war the paperwork doesn't end, it seems. "You know, your father, Prince Quan, was never this focused on his duties."

"Really?" Leif looks up with a curious expression on his face. "Please, come in. Just a bit more, and I'll go to bed, I promise."

"I've heard that line used plenty of times by Lord Sigurd and Lord Seliph," Finn sweeps in, his mantle trailing behind him. 

"I should be proud, then, that I'm emulating two distinguished men," Leif mutters as he reads.

"Focus on their admirable traits, my lord, not their...bad habits," Finn says delicately. "I can handle these, my lord."

"But then you won't get to sleep, Finn," Leif sighs. "And don't think I haven't noticed those all-nighters you pull."

"It's the retainer's duty to worry about the lord, Lord Leif," Finn places a hand on one of the sheets of paper, and Leif's gaze flits up to his. "Let me worry about this. You should focus on leading the troops while being well-rested."

"What kind of commander would I be if I didn't make sure my trusted soldiers weren't at their best?" Leif leans back in his chair. "You don't see Prince Seliph worrying about this stuff."

"That's because Oifey deals with most of it, my lord," Finn chuckles. "Lord Sigurd and Prince Quan were much the same - they left all their paperwork to me and Oifey."

"That's the first time I've heard you say their names without fading off," Leif says softly.

"Is it?" Finn instinctively raises a hand to his face, feeling for tears that have long dried up. 

"Next you'll mention Lady Lachesis without fading away," Leif stands up and pats Finn's shoulder. "Go get some rest, Finn. That's an order."

"By your leave, my lord," Finn steps back with a bow, pulling his mantle behind him.

"Always so proper, even with the moon at its zenith," Leif rubs the back of his head. "You don't need to be so refined, Finn."

"Out of respect, I do."

"I'm sure my lord father and lady mother requested otherwise."

"The Lady Ethlyn did so numerous times, yes."

"Then please call me by name," Leif rests a hand on the hilt of the Light Sword.

"It would cause me great duress, my lord," Finn pulls himself up.

"Can't have that, can I?" Leif sighs heavily. "Fine, fine. Get to sleep."

"Of course," Finn grabs the rest of the reports and sweeps out of the study.

"Finn!" Leif squawks. "Give those back!"

* * *

Finn doesn't often stop by the aviary, but he makes an exception this time. He watches quietly as Altena feeds her wyvern lovingly, tossing him bits of meat for him to snap out of the air. His own horse is well-tended to, and he feels drawn to his charge. Just like that day, she is enshrouded by the light of Njörun. 

"Just going to keep standing there, Sir Finn?" She turns around with a sly glance, one that Lady Ethlyn had worn many times long ago. 

"I did not want to intrude, Lady Altena," Finn bows politely. 

"I was just feeding Fionn here," Altena pats her wyvern's side lovingly. "He's worn out a bit."

"I'm sure I or a fellow retainer can take care of him, my lady," Finn steps up warily, hand twisting on his lance. The wyvern stares at him with red eyes. 

"I'd rather you not lose an arm or leg," Altena says gravely before laughing. "I jest. Fionn's a big baby, aren't you?" Fionn trills as Altena steps up closer. "Let me see what you have in your mouth, Fionn." 

He huffs, his scaly head angling further from his mistress. "Fionn. Open up." Begrudgingly he does so and Altena's hands are whip-quick as she pulls out a dagger from his maw. "When did you get this?"

Finn chuckles a bit. 

"Huh. So you do have emotions," Altena leans back a bit, holding the wet dagger at bay. "I remember...you were more expressive long ago."

"I...Much has changed. I thought you and your parents were lost." Finn shakes his head.

"You must have been through a lot," Altena sighs. "I wish I had known."

"It is not your fault, Lady Altena. Just mine own."

"Haven't you been told not to take responsibility for things out of your control?" Altena pats Fionn's side and the wyvern coos brightly. He twists around her and starts purring. 

"Many times, yes," Finn sighs. "One of my many flaws."

"But you found me," Altena shrugs with a smile. "Besides, I remembered you. Or parts of you. Where do you think Fionn's name came from?"

"Don't tell me they tell that ridiculous fairytale in Thracia," Finn rolls his eyes. "Of Fionn the Brave and his twice-done quest."

"It's a bit different up north. He rides a dragon instead of a horse, has the blood of Dáinn and all that." Altena smiles. 

"Hmph. I'm sure my mother was thinking of the Leonster version, before she died," Finn grumbles. "And then, well. I was brought on as a squire shortly after. Trained hard, and then..."

"The rest is history," Altena finishes. "But thank you for looking after my brother."

"It was my duty, Lady Altena," Finn bows. "Shall I leave you be?"

"Don't go yet," Altena tilts her head. "Please...tell me of my family. I mean, my birth family. My mother and father, my home country of Leonster, its people...as a son of the land, surely you must know more than the average citizen."

"If my lady insists," Finn leans his lance on the side of the aviary as he sits on a box, knees twinging in pain. "Let me see...your father, despite the legends, was an awful student. Your mother was a mischievous troublemaker despite her gentle demeanor."

"Really?" Altena leans forward with a bright grin. "I always imagined them as very serious individuals."

Finn chuckles to himself. "On the contrary. Your mother's part of the reason I was married."

"Oh?" She has a grin that wouldn't be misplaced on Ethlyn's face. "Do go on."

"Let's see..." Finn leans his head on the wall and loses himself in memories more than two decades old. "If I remember what Oifey told me in our first campaign, your parents met when your father was enrolled at Belhalla's military academy..."

* * *

"You wished to see me, Lord Ares?" Finn stands at attention as Ares growls. He tries his best with a lance, but Finn can easily see the mistakes.

"I did, yes," Ares turns with a huff and sinks the butt of his lance into the sand. "They say you're the best lancer in our army."

"I am sure there are others who are better," Finn dismisses. "Lady Altena, for example. Lord Leif, Lady Fee, General Hannibal - "

"But you are the best at using a lance on horseback," Ares cuts in. "Altena and Fee are fliers, and I have no intention of donning heavy plate. And you trained Leif, did you not?"

"I did, but - "

"And you yourself learned at the feet of Quan of Leonster, captain of the Lanzeritter, correct?" 

"True. But why? Surely you are the expert of the sword," Finn gestures to where Mystletainn sits on his hip, even now glowing with dark energy.

"You speak true, Sir Finn. But I will not linger in my father's shadow. If Leif and Seliph can use lances, so can I." Ares paces.

"You know, I also taught your aunt how to use the lance when she trained for Master," Finn lets slip.

"Really? Ah, you are my uncle, technically," Ares stops in his tracks. "Shall I call you 'uncle'?"

"If you desire. You are the sovereign heir to the House Nordion - "

"And you are its Prince Consort," Ares rolls his eyes. "But that is no matter. I am asking for instruction."

"Fair enough, 'nephew'," Finn braces himself with his brave lance.

"Never call me that again," Ares mutters. He settles into a stance and Finn leaves his own, standing behind Ares.

"You're holding yourself as if it were a sword. A lance is no mere Holy Sword. If a sword is an extension of a hand, a lance is an extension of your arm. Your goal is to keep your foes at a distance, not close the gap. Let your foes approach you." Finn instructs. "Especially on horseback. But before we can try there, we must master it on foot."

"Is this necessary? We're in a war," Ares furrows his brow.

"I won't have any of my students die on me, not if I can help it," Finn steps back. "The goal is to keep your foes at bay, strike at weaknesses. Thrust, not slash. We will start with some basic forms. One. Two." He leads Ares through the first forms that are so routine to him.

"Hmm, I make some sense of it," Ares says. "Not as much as a sword was instinctive, but..."

"Yes. Lachesis said that the sword came naturally through her holy blood. Since you are a major, swords do come more naturally. But it is important to learn other forms," Finn nods. "If not to practice ourselves, to better understand how others fight and to overcome them."

"Is that why Aunt Lachesis trained as a Master?"

"Partially," Finn thrusts. "After your lord father passed...she was determined to never lose another ever again. Just like Lord Leif. And so she learned from the best of us. Lord Quan and I taught her the lance, Lord Lex the axe, Lady Brigid the bow, Lord Azelle fire magic, Prince Lewyn wind magic, Lady Tailtiu thunder magic, and Lord Claude healing. She started to learn light magic, but..."

"Deirdre was captured before she could finish her tutelage?" Ares finishes with a sigh. "Hm. I'll stick with swords and lances, like my father."

"With a bit more instruction I am sure you will surpass him in that regard." Finn smiles wanly. "Shall we continue our practice?"

"Gladly," Ares grins widely.

* * *

Finn stands up, his joints popping as the desert sands whip around him. He tugs his mantle closer around his nose and mouth as the footprints shift. Recent tracks, not a mage's. Could it be...? 

He follows them, weary. After so long...

Is that...?

In the distance he sees echoes, shadows of people he once knew. Lord Quan, Lady Ethlyn, all those lost stand before him. "Go, Finn," Lord Quan smiles and points behind him.

"My lord..." Finn stumbles to his knees. He feels so old, older than his lieges ever got to live to. The specters vanish as he spots a familiar red cloak. He tumbles down the dunes, chasing desperately. 

He knows that golden hair, shot with grey as his own is, now. "LACHESIS!" He shouts, crashing to a stop. The woman whips around.

"Finn...? Is that you? You're not an illusion, are you?" She approaches him, those brown eyes widening in shock.

"Are you...?" He edges closer, a hand caressing her cheek. Unlike his dreams it doesn't phase through her. Her hands clutch his and she presses a kiss to his palm. "You're real."

"Oh, my darling..." Lachesis sobs and Finn feels himself crying once again. "How long has it been?"

"Too long," Finn falls to the sand as Lachesis follows him. "I thought you were gone forever."

"My darling knight, I am sorry," Lachesis shoves forward, nose pressed into the crook of his neck. He feels her tears soak his shirt, but his hands wrap around her tightly. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you."

"Will you stay when I wake up?" Finn asks, fingers digging into her cape. She's gaunt under her worn clothes, but she's beautiful in his eyes.

"Only if you promise the same," She pulls back and presses a hand over his heart. "So dry your tears, my dear. But let's get out of this desert, shall we?"

He laughs through his sobs as he stands up, the clear blue sky watching over them.

"Let's go home, Lachesis," he wraps their fingers together and she leans on his arm heavily. He feels like he could fly. "Everyone's waiting for us."

"I'd hate to keep them waiting, then," she laughs quietly. They're older, now, no longer the war-torn youth on the run from an empire. He leans down for a kiss, and she rises to her tiptoes to meet him.

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written romancey schmaltz in a while and had lady/knight finn/lach cravings. also had the idea on father's day, so. Finn and kids. Big shoutout to Sam (check her twitter here https://twitter.com/Dt75Art) and the discord (join here at https://discord.gg/c6s2Pc) to bother me about other stuff. Even tho it's my week off, i had to write this out. Anyway this is just a oneshot of one of my fave pairings. Remember to leave a kudos/comment, and i welcome fanart and fancontent. Thanks!


End file.
